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polina 4d
fly
Give me those lights, give me their burn
Give me the squeak of my shoes on the court
Give me the nerves, give me the skill
Set me the ball and give me the ****

Give me the gym, fill it with screams
Let me forget I was ever beneath
Give me the talent, please let it bloom
Give me the skill to dominate the room

Give me all I need, please help me fly
And let my hands touch that far-away sky
And if my wings burn, set them aflame
Let me fall and hear them scream my name
polina 4d
This feeling in my gut, the butterflies,
The tunnels that concave and shake
The soft skin of my stomach, shuddering
And the tightness in my chest that holds me whole

And those sacks, filled with air, exhaled out
Tired from their own deep breaths, they still
Shallow they turn, the basin filled with my reflection
Those lungs of mine, the giver of life
The taker of mine

I don’t think anxiety can be explained,
But isn’t this feeling simply a chemical reaction?
Drowning me in its taste, I beg for another chance
Winding back time isn’t as easy as you think

And yet I step up to the challenge, and the lights
scald my sensitive skin
Sunburnt, starburnt, I face
Their gazes head on, and alone,
I heard the thud thud, shhh shhh,
The pounding of it on the floor, I let go
And I let myself move,
Oh won’t I let myself move
polina Jul 15
The volleyball player is a greedy being
Constantly striving for more, never satisfied

We will melt our wax wings off
If it means we get a chance to fly

Falling from that burning sky, no one can reach us
When we’re up that high
and when the ocean floor touches our heads
We’re too far gone, not victors yet

A drowning, suffocating feeling, until you suddenly
Learn to breathe
And you will keep those wax wings on, even if
It means sinking to the deep

Died once, drowned twice, but got back up again
Sewing flight from broken skin
I will grow wings, no matter how
Take my dead skin, can’t reach me now
I suffocate staring into your beautiful caramel eyes.
You always leave me surprise
I feel my emotions arise
Now you have me hypnotized
Say my name in that tone again.

I’ll always stay optimistic being your friend
I know this isn’t the end
gaining inspiration from this temptation
I pray everyday you stay blessed,Don’t stress. Wherever you want to go,Let me know.

Unique in many ways. It’s hard to describe
When you have me feeling this way.
Infatuation with the situation.
Here I go mumbling even stuttering.
Fumble the ball to score
10 seconds before the call.
Run it back I won’t tumble & fall.
Made it before the buzzer went off.
Player number one is me
Walked up to ask you.
“Are you my player number two?”
Because I choose you.
Joel K Jul 13
Stepping on the line, ready to commit.
Committing to your work and consistency
activating your drive.

Leaning above the line for the slightest amount of advantage—lined against those who are said to be just as fast.

Anxiety, distress, panic, whatever you may call it.
All discarded and use as a tool to fuel the adrenaline.

The next step you take, activating the sparks to freedom.

Running like a freed slave— all the way to the end of the line.
- Just a poem describing what it feels like to be active in a sport and or anything else going forward.
eliana Jun 27
As I stand on that muddy grass field,
The roar of the cheering crowds
Is all I seem to hear.
No specific voices; it's all just a blur.
The only person I really notice
Is the yelling of my coach.

As I go to challenge the ball,
I think, "I want my coach to be proud of me."
The ball is at me feet, I have to be quick.
I dribble up the side of the field,
Cut in and cross, one touch,
From another player, and goal!
I know my coach is proud of me
From just one look.

Walking to the car,
Ball in hand, covered all in mud,
I receive compliments on a great game.
I say thanks, but all that matters
After the game winning goal
Is that one look from my coach.
feels like my life is over. only a a year to recover but thats a year of doing nothing. injuries ****.
MetaVerse May 22

                                                                ­                                  a
                                                       ­                                     w 
                                                                ­                       a
                                        ­                                         &
                                                                ­          up            
                                        ­                            up        
                                                              up­                
                             up                                 
up                                                     
            ­down               
                                          down

craig apogee May 15
The life of a mortal is one of contradiction. Contradiction of mind and body.
Contradiction of choice and fate.
When we stare into divine eyes,
It all seems to align.
When she breaks your gaze.
Well.
Ain't that a *****.
Wooden spoon for you. dear sir.
Ask questions. Get answers.
Make better decisions.
Ffs.
Poem from February 2024. A snapshot into my emotions and thoughts
Anais Vionet Apr 14
Lisa and I played a round of frisbee-disc golf today—let’s reminisce.

I love the ‘live performance’ of sports, how you must physicalise
discipline. You get this instant feedback that you have to own and
lean hard into. The being present to adjust, the internalised mechanisms of performance—the ‘liveness’—is the most exciting thing about sports. And, of course, the one who does it best wins—there’s a simplicity to it.

Being Sunday, the course was crowded with guys. Most of the groups were college teams of five or six guys. Since there were only two of us, we were playing faster.

I don’t like going up to a group of guys and asking to play through.
They always let us but we get these appraising looks—not strictly golf related—that you can feel. So we skipped around the guys and played open holes—still playing 18—they just weren't contiguous and it took a bit longer.

It was great to get out in the sun. The course was all rolling fairways, there’s no grass greener and no sky bluer. I came in 14-under (straight brag). I’m a little competitive, my ego loves to be placed in a hierarchy, and winning seems to give form to me, it’s such a pleasant and coherent narrative.

As we were leaving our escort Charles stepped away for a minute and a couple of Yale looking guys offered us a ride back to campus—which was all very innocent and chivalrous—to save us waiting for an Uber or something—I'm sure (we were all sweaty and looked like drowned rats).
‘Sure,’ I thought, ‘let’s run off into the sunset.. not.’
But I said, “No, thanks, anyway.”
.
.
Songs for this:
Golden Boys by Res
Fruitcake by Subsonic Eye
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 04/13/25:
Reminisce = talk, think, or write about things that happened in the past.
MetaVerse Apr 10
Hole
1.🥚
2.🐣
3.🐓
4.🦃
5.🐔
6.🦆
7.🦤
8.🦉
9.🐧
10.🦩
11.🦋
12.🦜
13.🦚
14.🕊
15.­🦢
16.🐦
17.🦅
18.🐥

Final Score:🪺
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